The Invisible Man
by Elivra26
Summary: Rory Williams passed through most of his life in the background, a supporting character, constantly overlooked, never realizing that he was - had always been - a hero. A few glimpses into this underappreciated character's life as we knew it. Multichaptered, Canon. Rated for one swear word.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi All! Wow, It's been more than a year or two since I published here but wth. This work has been sitting in my incomplete folder for a long, long time, but I decided it was time the rest of the world saw it. It was supposed to be an entry for the whocontests LJ which has periodical prompts for Doctor Who fanfics (you can vote for your favourite and everything!) and of course, me being me, I didn't manage to finish it in time... so anyhow, has no deadlines, so yaye!**

 **The prompt was " invisible", and weirdly enough, Rory was the first person to pop into my head. I thought about it, and realized later that it wasn't really that weird. Rory Williams, for a very long time, was the perpetual wallflower in his gang, always overlooked. Plus I've already written a Rory/Amy fic before (shameless plugging: my fic, Murky Ponds) and I love writing about them!**

 **And so you have, in the following chapters, some more glimpses into one of my most favourite couples from NewWho - The Ponds!**

 **I have to state though, that the protagonist in this fic is completely Rory. Amy features prominently simply because she is that prominent a part of his life, but this story is specifically and only about:**

* * *

 **The Invisible Man**

 _ **(Disclaimer: Doctor Who not mine. Yadda, yadda.)**_

"Watch where you're going, freak!" He felt himself pushed to the ground and he landed, hard, skinning both his knees badly. Tears welled into his eyes and dripped down his cheek. He stared around mournfully. No one was even looking at him.

The same thing happened the next day. He cried even more, and then again when his father asked him what had happened. When it happened again the third day, the perpetrator stopped instead of running. "Didn't I tell you to stay out of my way?" He advanced menacingly, and he nearly screamed, but before he could-

"Oi! Leave him alone!" Red hair and fury suddenly stood between him and the bully.

"Or what?" The sneer had made even him angry. "You're just a _girl_."

"Doesn't mean I can't hit, you blob!" She was true to her words and the bully was the one to go home crying that day.

"I saw you," she said as she offered him her hand.

"W-what?"

"I saw you. I've seen you three days, and three days he's been hurting you. I don't like it. I'm Amelia. What's your name?"

"Rory. Rory Williams."

"Nice to meet you, Rory Williams. See you."

She had run away abruptly, but his eyes were fixed on her back. His eyes were always on her after that.

She'd _seen_ him.

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 **A/N: Short, I know, but more chapters coming up, so stay tuned! Please review, it would really make my day. :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Ho-kay, here's chapter 2!**

* * *

"Watch out!"

"Sorry."

The man shot him a glare and rushed off. Rory sank onto a bench and gazed at the duckless duck pond listlessly.

"Hey."

"Hey."

She sat down next to him, warm and soft and small. "How's it going?"

He didn't answer her. She waited patiently, and finally he strung together some words for her benefit.

"How d'you know…"

"…that you were here? How do you think? We saw you."

"We?"

"Me and Amy, of course. She sends her sincerest apologies. Her aunt's being a bitch."

"Mels."

"Sorry." She was quickly repentant. His tone was enough.

They stared mutely at the wind-induced ripples in the duck pond for a while. Then Mels spoke again.

"You didn't answer my question."

"No."

Silence once more. Hours, or perhaps moments later, Rory glanced at his companion. Her curious eyes were on him.

"What?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. It's just… I don't understand why you're so cut up about –this."

He stared at her incredulously. "Do you even have to ask?"

"No, not like that, Rory. I mean, yeah, she was your mum, and-"

"-isn't that enough? Do I need any other reason?"

"No, Rory, of course you're allowed to be sad, but… it's not like she was ever around."

"She was my mum. She –she's dead. Do I need more reasons to be sad?"

"Of course you can be _sad_ , Rory, but-"

He stood up abruptly. "You know what, you wouldn't understand anyway."

She shot to her feet. "I understand better than you think! And I know that you're totally overreacting about this!"

"Oh yeah? How would you know? Bloody orphan." He walked away, but he hadn't taken two steps before a small but firm hand had whipped him around and slapped him, hard, across his cheek.

"Don't you dare say that again," Mels wheezed, her dark eyes screaming murder. "You, of all people."

"You started it!" His voice had gone all squeaky and tears were pouring down his face again. Damn puberty. Damn all those hormones.

"Yeah, 'cos I wasn't lying! Listen to me, Rory. She was your mum. But she out and left you. Now she must've been a good person and she's dead now, and that's sad –but she does not deserve your tears. You hear me? Mums," her voice broke and she blinked away tears, "mothers do not leave their kids behind. Unless they have a reason, unless it's life and death. Now your dad –he's sitting there all alone in that little drawing room of yours, wondering if he's done enough, wondering if he made a mistake in keepin' 'er away. So you go right back home, and help him, right now." She turned away. "Dads need comfortin' too. They just don't show the need. You need to see them properly."

Two beats passed. His tears had dried out.

"You know who they are."

"What?"

"You know who your parents are?"

Mels sniffed. "Yeah. So?"

"Nothing. Just thought you'd have gone finding them."

She shook her head. "They need to find me. That's how it works."

"Yeah, but-"

"Trust me, Rory."

He shrugged. "It's your life."

She didn't answer. Instead she said, "So you'll go home now?"

He sniffed and rubbed his eyes. "Yeah. Like you said, Dad –he's alone."

"Yeah. Good."

He hesitated for a moment, then offered her his hand. She took it. "Thank you," he mumbled. She simply pulled him into a quick, warm hug, then pushed him away. "Always, Rory Williams. Now go home."

"You too."

She nodded, and turned away. He wondered if she really would go home –knowing her, she probably wouldn't.

* * *

 **A/N: I know there's absolutely no mention of Rory's mother in the series, we don't even know if she's dead, so I decided to add a little twist to the story.**

 **Therefore, I present my headcanon: Rory's mum walked out on him and his father when he was practically an infant; he has little to no memories of her. Brian would have seen her as too 'career-oriented' and so tried to keep her away from her son. In my head, Mrs. Williams doesn't try too hard to contact her ex-husband and her son anyway, and so when she dies in an accident, it takes both Rory and Brian by surprise. Rory is 12 years old and is understandably upset, he would have secretly hoped to be reunited with his mother someday.**

 **And there you have it! As always, thank you for your Favourites and Follows and a review would be much appreciated!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay,** ** _really_** **short one this time, but the next one will make up for this one, you'll see...**

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Her heavy footsteps echoed in the silent house. He sat alone and still in the dark kitchen, listening, watching.

She stomped into his view, her dress sparkling from the lights in the lounge and paused at the mirror in the hallway to check her makeup. She pouted as she corrected her lip gloss and blinked to unstick her mascara. Then, with a flip of her fiery red hair and an unconcerned scowl on her face, she walked out the front door and slammed it shut behind her.

Bile rose in his throat and his fingers curled so tightly around the glass in his hand he wondered it didn't shatter into a million pieces.

She hadn't even looked at him.

* * *

 **A/N: This chapter references that dark period only alluded to in the TV series, the time when Amy and Rory were... not ok. This is sometime before their divorce, and, if you'll forgive my shameless plugging again, these couple of lines can be a missing scene from my other story, _Murky Ponds_.**

 **As always, please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Yaaye next chapter! Okay, so as you'll see, each chapter is NOT in a chronological order. After the minute drama from the chapter, we now have... fluff!**

* * *

Mels had shown him the little meadow and the stream running through it. It was idyllic and lonely and perfect.

It didn't seem so perfect now, with the sun glaring down on them and Amy complaining of the heat and the (short) climb and why couldn't they have just gone to the cinema?

"Um, er –sit down, Amy."

"Where?"

"Um, here maybe? I- I've got a little towel in here…"

"Never mind," she said in the tone of a martyr, "you'll need it to spread the food on."

"Right."

She watched him silently, almost like a cat, as he laid the spread on the grass in quick, nervous movements. "It looks lovely," she pronounced when he turned to her for her approval, and his relief was palpably visible.

They'd sat down, sipped some wine and nibbled on some club sandwiches when Amy finally broke the silence.

"Well, get on with it. You've jollied me up very nicely with the wine and the food."

"W-what?"

She grinned. "You were going to ask me something weren't you?"

His cheeks, already flushed from the heat, turned bright crimson. "Did Mels tell you?"

"She didn't have to, dummy. I saw you going into Harper's."

He could've slapped himself. He should've been more careful going to the shop but now he'd totally ruined the surprise.

"Well, will you?"

"Will I what?"

"You know."

"Ask me properly and maybe I'll think about it."

He sighed and tugged at his collar. Dating Amy was honestly the most wonderful, wondrous thing in the universe, but she was still so _difficult_. He swallowed.

"You're not making this very easy on me, you know."

"Why?" She sounded genuinely curious. "You were going to ask me anyway."

"Yeah, but I'd have had the benefit of… of surprise."

"Did you think you could surprise me into submission?"

"I don't want you to submit to anything! I –I submit myself to you… I mean-"

"I know what you mean," her voice was suddenly soft and mellow. "I don't want any big speeches, Rory. Just ask me the question already."

He swallowed again. His heart was thudding so fast he was afraid he'd faint before he could say the words.

"Amy –Amelia," he dropped to his knees hard and hid a wince as he grabbed her hand. "I… I love you. I know I'm not everything you want and deserve, and I'm certainly not anything like the Doctor, not even close, but I know I would… die for you, I really would, Amy. You're my everything, and I love you so much I can't –I can't even…"

"Hey," she squeezed his hand gently, "I said no speeches."

He took a deep breath and gathered his thoughts. "I want to say it. I want you to know, to make you understand, how much I really care for you. There's not enough words in this world to say it. But I'd like to spend the rest of my life trying to convince you, if you'll let me. If you'll have me."

She was smiling – _smiling_ and her eyes were sparkling. "Of course I'll have you, you –you beautiful man."

He gasped in joy as he slipped the ring onto her finger even as she responded with a breathless giggle.

"Hmm, not bad for Harper's," she said, observing the ring.

"It's not from Harper's," he said, slowly meshing his fingers with hers.

"No?"

He shook his head. "It, um, it was my mum's. I only went to Harper's that day to get it all cleaned and stuff."

Her fingers went stiff. His eyes met hers. "What?"

"You're an idiot, you know that Rory?"

"I know."

"God, I love you."

A sigh of relief escaped him as she kissed him and a residual tear slid down his cheek.

"Crybaby," she teased him.

"Fiancée," he whispered as he drew her to him again.

* * *

 **A/N: I really hesitated in writing this one because I really wanted to get it right. Of all the missing scenes, Amy and Rory's proposal would have to be perfect(to me at least) because it's so... well, important. Anyway, I hope I've done justice to the characters and story. As always, thanks for the Faves and the Follows and every review is much appreciated!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Okay, sorry for the late update, I've been working on this chapter for a while now, and somehow haven't been convinced that the final output is good enough, but hey, here's hoping my lovely readers like it anyway...**

 **Here's some gutwrenching angst to counteract the last chapter's fluff. Enjoy!**

* * *

Sunlight filtered dimly through the blinds. Dust swirled in the little room as they lay in bed staring at the ceiling listlessly.

She stirred, and the dust particles whizzed about.

He turned to her, alert. "Hungry?"

She shook her head.

"Thirsty?"

She didn't answer.

He got to his feet and the bed creaked loudly. Slipping his feet into his slippers, he trudged over to the other side of the room where a glass and a jug of water rested on a table, and he poured out a glass.

He sat down on her side of the bed and held the glass out. For several moments she didn't respond, her glassy eyes reflecting the window. Then she blinked and sat up and gulped down the water.

"More?"

This time she nodded, and he quickly fetched the jug. She drank two glasses more and then sank into her pillows again.

"Amy-"

"Don't."

"Amy, please-"

She elbowed him so hard in the ribs he nearly fell off. He got to his feet awkwardly and stood facing her, jar in one hand, glass in the other.

"You need to eat-"

"Later."

"But-"

"Just leave me alone."

Something in her scathing tone riled him up. "No. You're eating something. You need it."

She didn't even respond. He set the glass and jug down with nearly enough force to break them. "Amy, look at me." His commanding tone was rare enough for her to understand his current mood. She blinked and fidgeted again, but avoided eye-contact.

"Amelia." Somehow his mellow voice seemed to boom in the small room. "Look. At. Me."

With a half-roll of her eyes, she let her gaze meet his. For one long moment they stared at each other, husband and wife, father and mother –childless both.

"I want to see her." Amy's cracked voice stirred the silence like a gunshot.

"What?"

"I'm not eating –I can't eat until I see her again, Rory. I just –I just _can't_. Not without seeing her again."

Rory stared. "Amy, you're not… you're not seriously considering _starving_?"

Amy raised an eyebrow, like it was obvious. "How could you even stomach food now… knowing she's never coming back?"

"But she will, River said she'll keep visiting-"

"But she's not my baby!" Amy spat. "She's –she's just some woman, some flirty, kickass-y woman who she somehow ends up becoming, but River Song is _not_ Melody Pond."

"Amy-"

"She's not her, Rory! She's not my _baby_! Don't you get it?!" She was crying now. "She's –not – _her_!" She ended on a scream.

Instantly he was at her side and she was in his arms. Rory felt himself turn cold as tears poured down his face too. He had never seen Amy like this, sobbing loudly and wailing. Amelia Pond never _wailed_.

Unless it was for the baby she had lost forever.

"Never again," she sobbed repeatedly. He only got what she was saying the third or fourth time she said it. "Never again, Rory! How? _How_?"

"I don't know." The lump in his throat was so big it was nearly choking him wordless. "I don't know, Amy."

"I can't. I just can't. I can't not see my baby again, Rory." She clutched the front of his shirt so hard he winced through his tears. "I can't –I can't live without seeing her again."

"Sweetheart. You have to." He swallowed hard. "You will."

She shot him a determined look through her tears. A look he had never seen before, but it chilled him through. "Time can be rewritten."

"Stop!" He said forcefully, and stood up, away from her grasp. "Don't even – _who are you?_ " She dropped her face in her hands and her shoulders began to shake. "Amelia Pond would never consider leaving behind so much, so many-"

"Amelia Pond never had a daughter!" She got to her feet, equal parts furious and despairing. "But Amelia Williams does. Did. Will have. Oh, _God_." She turned away, still wearing the cotton pyjamas they had put on her, its pristine white turned murky beige.

"Amy, she's not dead."

Amy just shook her head.

"Amy, look at me," he approached her cautiously, "our baby is gone," his voice quaked, "but she's coming back."

"How many times do I have to tell you, Rory, it won't be _her_ -"

"But it will be. Amy, you can't reject River just because she's not an infant-"

"That's not –I wouldn't –argh!" She sank onto the bed, her head in her hands again.

"Amy, tell me," he sat next to her, solemn, "what is really bothering you?"

She looked up; she was crying again. "I'm scared."

"Hey, our baby's a tough girl, you know it-"

"No." She shook her head vehemently. "I'm scared… scared that I'll forget her."

Silence resounded in the room for a long moment.

"Amy-"

"Not _her_ , not really, I won't forget her, but –" She looked at him, so young and frightened and vulnerable, "I'm scared I'll forget what she looks like." She burst into feverish explanation. "I only had her for a day, and –and God, it sounds horrible to say it, but all babies look alike, and I'm her _mother_ , Rory, and I can't –I must not forget her! I can't not be there for her in her childhood and then forget her face, too, I _can't_ -"

"Hey, hey. Shush, now."

"But-"

" _Shush_. Wait right here." She stared, mouth agape, as he quickly exited the room. He didn't make her wait too long. Barely a minute later, he returned, holding something flat and rectangular.

"I filched it. I couldn't just leave it there, with all those creatures –here."

"Wha –" Her hand went to her lips as she stared the object Rory handed her. " _Oh._ Oh, Rory!" She flung her arms around him. They were both crying again but they weren't just sad tears this time –they were so much more.

Behind him, in her hand, the sunlight glinted off the glass frame of a photograph.

* * *

 **A/N: Yeah my biggest peeve in this chapter was that they both somehow turned out OOC... Let me know what you think! Thanks for the Favourites and Follows and extra fresh thanks for reviews!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Apologies for the non-updates, but hey, guess what -it's completed! Yes, indeed, you've got not more chapters to wait for they're all here now. As always, thanks for all your appreciation!**

* * *

The whole class had to talk about superheroes and what superpower they'd want to have if they could. Rory had said he'd want the power to travel in time, and Amelia had been furious –he'd stolen _her_ idea, she said. She had spent the rest of the day ignoring him and talking to that new girl Melody, who said she wanted teleportation.

But what really stuck with him from that day was when Terry Parker had said invisibility. Like it was a superpower. Like it was a good talent to have. He never spoke to Terry after that class.


	7. Chapter 7

The first time he woke up sweating he simply changed, took a long walk around the Tardis and then went back to sleep at her side (well, above her, to be precise; of course the Doctor would be obsessed with bunk beds). The second time he couldn't help her finding out –he was screaming. She begged and pestered him so he finally pretended it was because of their latest adventure, a particularly traumatising one.

The third time she didn't even ask what it was.

"It's Roranicus."

"What?" He wheezed, rubbing his chest and trying to calm himself down.

"You're dreaming Roranicus' dreams, aren't you?"

He simply turned daway.

"I knew it. C'mon." She ushered him out of their room and into the kitchen, which the Tardis had considerately placed right next door.

"Sit."

"Amy-"

"No talking." She pottered about the kitchen, placing a kettle to boil and hunting through shelves and cupboards. He gave up trying to explain: it was clear she didn't want any explanations yet and he was still trying to steady his breath and his heartbeat.

Exactly seven minutes later, Amy placed two steaming mugs of tea on the table and seated herself in front of him. "Chamomile," she said simply. He nodded and took a sip.

It tasted like heaven. It made him want to cry.

"This has always been my mother's fail-safe for nightmares… or so I remember," she muttered. He shot her a quick glance at that. He wasn't the only one with two pasts, after all.

She shrugged. "I didn't want to tell you… but for us –for _me_ , growing up with a crack in space and time in my bedroom… I have nightmares, too."

"Why didn't you want to tell me?"

"Because I didn't want you to worry –isn't it obvious?" She chuckled humourlessly. "Well, lesson learnt. If I had told you sooner, you'd have told me about yours sooner."

He reached for her hand over the table; she grasped his hand tight and whispered, "Talk to me. Tell me about it."

"Tell me yours."

"No." She shook her head. "Tonight is your turn. You need to talk about it, get it out. Don't worry," that humourless grin again, "my turn will come."

"Amy…"

"I know." She sighed. "Wibbly-wobbly." She squeezed his hand. "Go on, tell me."

He sighed. "It's just… it's mostly flashes. Two thousand years is a lot and sometimes I remember things I don't even remember happening to me until I do remember them –I mean-"

"I know exactly what you mean, love. Go on."

"Sometimes it's from before, way before… way before I remembered who I was. I mean, when I was just Roranicus and I didn't know who Rory Williams was or Amy Pond or the Doctor… those are the worst." He stopped.

"Why?"

"Because… that's someone else. Because that wasn't me –that was a plastic _thing_ , a whole other person. I don't like his thoughts." He placed his head on the table. "He wasn't very –well, he wasn't nice. Roranicus. I mean, he wasn't a villain or anything, not in our sense of the term, but he –he wasn't…"

"He wasn't you," Amy finished softly.

" _Exactly_. God, Amy, he was so… cold. And linear. And loyal and obedient and hardworking but that isn't everything, is it? He was the perfect soldier. And worst of all, he was…"

"What?" Amy brushed the hair on the back of his head. "What was he, Rory?"

Rory looked up. "He was a centurion."

Amy looked confused. "Yes."

He sat up. "D'you know why a centurion is called a centurion?"

"Um…"

"Simply put, he is a soldier who leads a hundred men. A century of men."

"Oh." Realisation crept into her eyes. " _Oh_."

"Technically speaking, it's a lot more complicated than that. Hierarchical structures and politics and whatnot. But that was basically it. Roranicus was the chief, the leader, the name and pride of a hundred and twenty men. He didn't get to that role by accident."

"Oh, Rory."

"But that's not the worst part." He took a deep, shuddering breath. "Roranicus, he became quite well-known in military circles." He stopped abruptly, overwhelmed. She squeezed his hand gently. "Well-known for what?"

He swallowed. "As an assassin."

Her eyes widened. " _You-_ "

"Yeah, I know. It's comical."

"That's not what I meant." She shook her head slowly, her eyes as big as saucers. "I mean, you're a nurse, Rory."

"Yeah." There was a long silence. Amy seemed at a loss for words. Rory continued, "I… he –they had a name for him. The Invisible Warrior." His eyes met hers. "Do you see? Invisibility was his superpower. He used it. He _craved_ it. He wanted to be not-seen."

She got to her feet with a sudden screech of her chair, walked around the table, and dropped into his lap, her arms encircling his neck. He buried his head into her shoulder, clutching at her as though he was drowning.

"He sounds stupid, this Roranicus." Amy murmured. "Just about what you'd expect from a plastic creature." She placed both her hands on his ears and made him look up at her. "And that's what these are, Rory," she said calmly. "They're plastic nightmares. Not real. Just realistic, and maybe slightly creepy because of how almost-real they are, but they're not real. _This_ is real," she bent down and placed a soft kiss on his lips. "I am real, right here, right now."

Rory closed his eyes and let out a ragged sigh and nodded. "Thank you."

"Oh, Rory," she sighed, stroking his head. "You are anything but invisible to me, you beautiful man. I always, _always_ see you."

He couldn't stop the tear the streaked down his cheek. "I love you, Amy."

"I know. I love you too."


	8. Chapter 8

"Choose, human. Choose your mate right and I shall let you both live."

Rory watched, frozen, as Amy glanced between the two of them with desperation equal to his. He wished he could shout out, or at the very least, blink or twitch –anything to give his wife a hint. But the alien paralytics were working only too well(the nurse in him wanting to flick a few for himself) and he was frozen, well and truly, as still as a statue. His apparent look-like was placed right next to him so he couldn't see him, but judging by the look on Amy's face, they had done a good job in replicating him.

"So if I pick my real husband –I mean the real guy who's my husband, you'll let us go?"

"A wager is sacred. I would not break its terms."

"Okay. Can I examine them?"

"Yes."At that, Amy darted over, her silver robes whipping around her, and stared intently at him and his copy.

After a whole minute, Amy stepped back, the look of dismay only strengthened by her scrutiny.

"Courage, Amelia Pond. You can do it!" To Rory's intense irritation, from the far corner of the room, just within his line of sight, their muscled, handsome guide shouted words of encouragement to his wife. He saw Amy's expression relax, and felt his irritation mount. As helpful as he had been, Gaël's abs were too perfect for Rory to feel any amount of gratitude towards him.

"You will pick him right, and soon he will be angry at my beauty again!"

Rory wished he could roll his eyes.

Amy smiled a tiny smile. "Thanks, Gaël."

Then her smile slipped off her face. She whipped her head around to look at Gaël in chains, and turned back to Rory and his fake. Her eyes glinted with speculation. Wait, what had she thought of?

She turned to face Gaël and stood surveying him for a moment, her hands on her hips. "Oh, Gaël, you have been _such_ great help. So supportive."

To Rory's horror, she began sashaying over to the bronzed guide in a very familiar, seductive walk. _What was she doing_?

Rory watched, helpless, as she stood before the bare-chested hunk who towered above even her. "It looks hopeless," her voice was low but it carried across the echoing room. "I… I don't know if I can save him. My only comfort is that at least you will be here, captive with me."

Rory realized what she was trying to do. She was bluffing, distracting both Gaël and their captors while cosying up to him. But what was her plan? Distract them from what? The Doctor wasn't with them, he couldn't save them. What was she trying to-

Before his thought could even end, Rory watched, horrified, as Amy snaked her hand around Gaël's neck and pulled him into a deep, sensuous kiss.

He forgot trying to discover the plan. He could only see them, only see Gaël the guide's face grimaced with pleasure, his tongue down his wife's throat. And he saw red.

There was a streak of red, white and silver across the room and Amy was suddenly next to him, her hand in his.

"Him," she said confidently. "This is my husband."

Immediately Rory unfroze and he fell into her white arms. "Wha- How?"

She grinned. "I told you, you stupid man. I always see you. Those paralytics must not be so good because your eyebrows twitched when I snogged him."

"You-you…"

"Yes, I snogged him just so you'd react. The one time I am glad of your jealous side."

"You kissed me for him?" Gaël sounded more scandalized than Rory had expected.

"Oh, it was a very good kiss, ten-on-ten," Amy said reassuringly as she worked on his chains. Then she cast a quick wicked grin at Rory. "But I've had better. _Much_ better. Come along, Mr. Pond."


	9. Chapter 9

It was night again.

"Fuck," he said, and then winced. The Doctor did not approve of strong language. But he wasn't here. Nor was Amy, or River. With growing sense of dread in the pit of his stomach, Rory realized what had happened. He had come back.

He was back in Manhattan. Alone.

"No. No, no, no, no. Oh, God, no." His legs were moving before he knew it, and he was running. The streets were empty, the vintage cars were few and far between.

No. No. No.

No, no, no, no.

Not again.

The first time had been harrowing enough; the second time round had a sense of finality to it. Through his years of travelling with the Doctor, he knew, he just knew, that they wouldn't come back for him. They couldn't.

He was stuck here, all alone, in the dark and in the past.

He needed help. Oh God, he needed help.

A fat man in evening dress was walking in the street across from him, and Rory called out to him. "Hey! I need your help! Listen, I need-"

The man didn't even turn around. If anything, he seemed to walk away faster. Rory made to follow him, then stopped.

"Can't see," he whispered, feeling like a seven year old again. "Can't see me," he croaked, tears blurring his vision.

No.

No.

"No, no, no." He sank to his knees.

It was over, everything was over.

"RORY!"

The voice that echoed out to him seemed to carry light with it because suddenly the streets weren't as dark anymore. Still on his knees, he turned around. Through the blur of his tears, he could see a faint whitish smudge on the edge of the street. The smudge became larger and larger, and suddenly there were other colours, all blue and red and fiery hair and jeans and green eyes and it was her.

It was her.

"Rory! Oh, there you are – I see you!"

"A… Amy?"

And then she was on her knees too, and he was in her arms, or she was in his, and they were both crying, sobbing on the pavement in 1930's Manhattan.

"You came back," he whispered, their noses and lips and tears all mingling in a whirl of emotions.

"Of course I came back."

"For me."

Her face seemed to achieve some sort of clarity through the wetness. "Always you, Rory Williams. Always."

"Thank you," he whispered.

They sobbed for a long time. But they had each other.

And finally Rory realized that he never had been, never could have been invisible. That she always saw him the way he saw her. That they were always shining in each other's vision, like the Doctor's stars, and that they would always be the gloriously bright and brilliant Amy and Rory Pond.


End file.
